"Mr. Lawless offered to show me some tricks with cards; as they will not take so long a time as a game of chess, perhaps that would be most advisable this evening."

"Whichever you prefer, I will ring for cards," replied Oaklands, coldly. He then waited until the servant had executed the order, and as soon as Lawless had attracted public attention to his performance, left the room unobserved.

Wonderful things did the cards effect under Lawless's able management,-very wonderful indeed, until he showed you how they were done; and then the only wonder was that you had not found them out for your self, and how you could have been stupid enough to be taken in by so simple a trick: and very great was Lawless on the occasion, and greater still was Ellis, who was utterly sceptical as to the possibility of performing any of the tricks beforehand, and quite certain, as soon as he had seen it, that he knew all about it, and could do it easily himself, and on trying, invariably failed; and yet, not profiting one bit by his experience, was just as sceptical and just as confident in regard to the next, which was of course attended by a like result. Very wonderful and very great was it all, and much laughter did it occasion; and the minutes flitted by on | rapid wings, until my mother discovered that it was time for us to start on our walk to the cottage, a mode of progression of which Sir John by no means approved, he therefore rang the bell, and ordered the carriage. While they were getting it ready, Harry's absence was for the first time observed, and commented on.

"Did any body see when he left the room?" inquired Sir John.

"Yes," replied I, "he went away just as Lawless began his performances."

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Dear me! I hope he was not feeling ill," said my mother.

"Ill, ma'am !" exclaimed Ellis, "impossible; you don't know Mr. Oaklands's constitution as well as i do, or such an idea could never have occurred to you; besides, you can't for a moment suppose he would think of being taken suddenly ill without having consulted with me on the subject beforehand. I must go and see after him, ma'am, directly, but it's quite impossible that he should be ill;" and as he spoke he left the room with hurried steps.

"My dear Fanny, how you made me jump! I hope you haven't done any mischief," exclaimed my mother, as Fanny, moving suddenly, knocked down the cardbox, and scattered the contents on the carpet.

I am sadly awkward," returned Fanny, stooping to pick up the box, "I do not think it is injured."

"My dear child, it does not in the least signify," said Sir John, taking her kindly by the hand, "why, you have quite frightened yourself, you silly little thing; you are actually trembling; sit down, my dear, sit down,— never mind the cards. Frank, if you'll ring the bell, Edmunds will see to that."

"No, no! we'll pick 'em up," exclaimed Lawless, going down on all fours, "don't send for the butler; he's such a pompous old bird, if I were to see him stooping down here, I should be pushing him over, or playing him some trick or other. I shouldn't be able to help it, he's so jolly fat. What a glorious confusion! kings and queens and little fishes all mixed up together!— here's the knave of clubs hail-fellow-well-met with a thing that looks like a salmon with a swelled face! Well, you have been, and gone, and done it this time, Miss Fairlegh-I could not have believed it of you, Miss Fairlegh, oh!"

Mind you pick them all up properly," retorted Fanny; if you were really such a conjuror as you pretended to be just now, you would only have to say hocus pocus,' and the cards would all jump into the box again in proper order."

"Then I should have lost the pleasure of going on my knees in your service. There's a pretty speech for

you, eh! I'll tell you what-you'll make a lady's man of me now, before you've done with me. I'm polishing rapidly,—I know I am.”

"It's all right!" exclaimed Ellis, entering. "I found Mr. Oaklands lying on the sofa in the library; he says he feels a little knocked up by his walk this morning, and desired me to apologize for his absence, and wish every body good night for him. I say, Fairlegh,” cantinued he, drawing me a little on one side, has any thing happened to annoy him!"

"Nothing particular, that I know of," replied I; "why do you ask?"

"I thought he looked especially cross; and he called our friend Lawless an intolerable puppy, and wondered how any woman of common sense could contrive to put up with him,-that's all," rejoined Ellis.

"Fanny refused to play chess with him, because she thought it too late in the evening; - that cannot have annoyed him?"

"Oh, no!" was the reply. "I see exactly what it is now: since the granulating process has been going on so beautifully in the side, his appetite has returned, and as he must not take any very active exercise just yet, the liver is getting torpid. I must throw in a little blue pill, and he'll be as good-tempered as an angel, again; for naturally there is not a man breathing with a finer disposition, or a more excellent constitution, than Mr. Oaklands. Why, sir, the other day, when I had been relating a professional anecdote to him. he called me a blood-thirsty butcher,' and I honoured him for it, no hypocrisy there, sir."

At this moment the carriage was announced, and we proceeded to take our departure, Lawless handing Fanny in, and then standing chattering at the window, till I was obliged to give him a hint that Sir John would not like to have the horses kept standing in the cold.

You've made a conquest, Miss Fan,” said I, as we drove off; "I never saw Lawless pay such attention to any woman before; even Di Clapperton did not pro duce nearly so strong an effect, I can assure you."

"I am quite innocent of any intention to captivate," replied Fanny. “Mr. Lawless amuses me, and I laugh sometimes at, and sometimes with him."

"Still, my dear, you should be careful," interposed my mother; "though it's play to you, it may be death to him, poor young man! I got into a terrible scrape once in that way, myself, when I was a girl; laughing and joking with a young gentleman in our neighbor hood, till he made me an offer one morning, and i really believe I should have been persuaded into marry, ing him, though I did not care a bit about him. if I had not been attached to your poor dear father at the time: now you have nothing of that sort to save you, so as I said before, my dear, mind what you are about.”

"I don't think Mr. Lawless's heart will be broken while there is a pack of hounds within reach, mamma dear," replied Fanny, glancing archly at me as she spoke.

As we were about to proceed to our several rooms far the night, I contrived to delay my mother for a m ment under pretext of lighting a candle for her, closing the door, I said,

"My dear mother, if, by any odd chance, Fan should be inclined to like Lawless, don't you s any thing against it. Lawless is a good fellow: his faults lie on the surface, and are none of them serious; he is completely his own master, and mig marry any girl he pleased to-morrow, and I need not tell you would be à most excellent match for Fanny He seems very much taken with her, and no wonder, for she is really excessively pretty; and when she is in spirits, as she was to-night, her manner is most piquant and fascinating."

"Well, my dear Frank," was the reply, "you know your friend, and if he and Fanny choose to take a fancy

READINGS IN HISTORY.'

THE COURT OF STAR CHAMBER.

THE accession of Henry VIII. changed the appearance of proceedings in the Star Chamber, for being in early life of that jovial disposition which courts power for mere selfishness, not from any desire of doing good, loving money more for the pleasure of spending than of possessing it, and aware of the unpopularity of his father through the proceedings of the Star Chamber, he encouraged the council to inquire into the conduct of the promoters" of that court-"promoters" they were commonly called because they "promoted many honest men's vexations." The notorious Empson and Dudley, with others, were sent to the Tower immediately after the king had been proclaimed. A general pardon was signified for all offences except murder, felony, and treason; and restitution was promised to all who had wrongfully sustained injury through the nefarious practices of the late king's commissioners of fines and forfeitures. The council was besieged by applicants, some who had not suffered with those who had done so; and the natural result of this clamour was that the council very soon relinquished the promised justice. The "promoters" were fined, set in the pillory, and otherwise punished, in such a manner as to offer tunity of revenge to the people, of which the latter so heartily took advantage, that three of the offenders died in Newgate, a few days after their exposure, of the injuries received from the populace. The law could not touch Empson and Dudley; but in compliance with the clamours of the people, they were accused of a treasonable conspiracy, convicted, and condemned to death; perhaps they would not have been executed had not Henry in his first "progress" after his accession found himself annoyed by cries against the unpopular ministers, and they were accordingly beheaded. Empson's forfeited mansion, with its orchard and gardens, situated in St. Bride's, Fleet-street, and occupying the portion of ground now Salisbury-square and Dorset-street, was bestowed on Wolsey, 1510..

oppor

But the Court of Star Chamber still existed, and under the administration of Wolsey it afforded the latter the opportunity of furthering his own advancement; though it must be remarked that "there prevailed in this court neither the pecuniary meanness which was its prominent vice under his immediate predecessors, nor the cruelty which distinguished it at a later period." Henry VIII. found the juries of the ordinary courts sufficiently submissive to his cruel tyranny, which did not stop at fines and forfeitures; the court of Star Chamber had no power to decree death, and Henry, "who spared no man in his wrath," was obliged to have

recourse to common law.

Wolsey exhibited his wonted magnificence in his attendance at the Star Chamber, surrounded by noble. men, and preceded by "cross-bearers and pillarbearers." He is reported to have been impartial in his judgment of causes, although but too willing to weaken those noble families who opposed themselves to his ambition. He likewise punished both nobles and meaner men for overbearing conduct "in their countreyes;" so that the poor man no longer lived in such

(1) Concluded from page 299.

| fear as he had done. After his fall little is heard of the Star Chamber in public cases; the following are a few of those which occurred during the reign of Henry VIII.; the first proves how little the private business of the subject was respected when the so-called honour of the king was in question.

Two bills having been published slandering the "King's Highnes, and his most honourable counsell," two aldermen and a knight were appointed in each ward of the city, to go to every merchant and dealer's house, not only to inspect their books of business, but to bring away the last book, seal it, and convey it to Guildhall, there to be duly searched, "whether there be in them anie such like hand as is contained in the said billes, or any of them, and thereupon to be re-delivered to the merchants after due search made." It has been well remarked that Guildhall would "see another sight" if the books of the shopkeepers of London could now be gathered together by any such summary proceeding. Thomas Lucas, a privy councillor, was sent to the Tower for speaking scandalous words of the Lord Cardinal.

Lord Dacres, of the North, acknowledged that he had been negligent in the punishing of thieves, and that he had taken one, called Hector Carleton, into his house, knowing him to be a thief. His Lordship was committed, but soon released.

The Court of Star Chamber seems to have been, or pretended to be, a careful guardian of private morals; for it desired the principals of the Inns of Court and Chancery not to suffer the gentlemen students to be out of their houses after six o'clock at night, "without very great and necessary causes, nor to wear any kind of weapon."

The Earl of Surrey, Thomas Wyatt, and young Pickering, were summoned for breaking windows, and eating flesh in Lent; all were committed to the Tower, but afterwards discharged.

Slanderous words of the king or council, seditious expressions, prophecies, talking of the Scripture," were punished with the pillory. An executor was fined for making proclamation that the debts of the deceased person would be paid by him; the making of proclamations being a royal privilege, and one of which the king made royal use, for Cranmer received order from the Star Chamber and the king to declare the marriage of Anne Boleyn illegal, even before she had been brought to trial.

A story quoted from Lord Chancellor Ellesmere will show the state of the law as regarded wills, which were particularly cognisable by the Star Chamber.

6

sparkling of whose waters had often drawn her attention, she saw a figure sitting beside it. She went nearer, supposing it some poor woman come to ask her help or advice, for she was continually among the sick and needy, and was looked up to by all around the castle when sorrow of any kind visited them. As she approached the figure, it rose and came to meet her, and she saw a beautiful and graceful lady, handsomely dressed, though all in white, and covered from head to foot with a thin white veil, sprinkled with drops of water. The stranger addressed her, saying she was the Nymph of this Fountain, who now made herself visible to console one who had so often brought comfort to others; that she knew the cause of her sadness, and could promise that, before the year was ended, she should hold a little daughter in her arms. "But," continued the nymph, "I foresee that you will not live to complete her education, and that she will be exposed to great dangers; I wish to be her godmother, that I may protect and guide her." The baroness gladly accepted this offer, and the nymph,-after exacting a promise that she would not tell her husband of the interview, or who the godmother was to be till she herself should inform him at the ceremony, before which event she would no more be seen,-turned towards her fountain, stepped into it, and disappeared. The baroness felt much cheered by the hope thus given her; nor did the prospect of an early death, which accompanied it, materially damp her pleasure, for she had seen suffering and sorrow enough to feel little love for life, she knew her husband would not lament her long, and the Nymph of the Fountain's offered guidance assured her that, even to her child, her place would be well supplied. Many weeks had not elapsed before the baron was delighted with the hope of soon being, at length, a father. He determined that no expense should be spared in the christening, to prove the importance of his family, and often amused himself with settling all the details. He named a powerful noble of the district, his ally and frequent comrade, as godfather, and was considering whom he should select for the godmother, when his wife said he must leave that to her, she had a particular fancy to choose for

herself. He asked whom she wished to have, but she smiled and said she must prove to him that she could keep a secret, though he had so often asserted that no woman ever did. He was very curious, but she laughed at him for showing a weakness he had often ridiculed as peculiar to women, and assured him that her choice was one which would fully satisfy him, but he was not to know it till the time arrived, when the godmother would announce herself. The baron was ashamed to ask more, but he often tried by indirect questions to find out his wife's plan: however, the baby was born, and the day of christening came without his being the wiser on this point.

One by one the company entered the castle hall, and were led by the baron to his wife and child; each laid some present beside the cradle, still no godmother appeared, and all began to feel impatient, when, just as the baron was insisting on his wife's telling him whom she expected, the Nymph of the Fountain glided in. To all but the baroness she was a stranger, nor did she make herself known to any but the parents of her intended godchild; but the richness of her dress, the pleasure their hosts evidently felt in receiving her, and the respect they showed her, prevented any other expression among the guests than of wonder who she could be. And this was increased by the contrast between her present-a little brown ball of turned wood, scented with musk-and those of so many friends, and especially of the godfather, who had given a splendid baptismal robe. Even the baroness felt somewhat disappointed at seeing it, and still more her husband, who, on welcoming the fairy godmother, had formed great expectations for his child, and even for himself. But the movement to the castle chapel soon withdrew every one's attention.

The godmother took the baby in her arms, and held her in due form, while she received the name of Maud. Then followed the christening feast, at which the Nymph of the Fountain took her appointed place; but early in the evening she departed, unperceived by all except the baroness, to whom she said, as she took her leave,

"My gift is of more value than it appears to be; three times in your daughter's life it will give her a gift at her choice;-but three times only;-so preserve it carefully, and teach her not to throw away its powers, but to reserve them for moments of real emergency. It has one other property; it will at any time save her from fire; so let it be always about her. I tell you this, because you will see me no more; but I shall watch over you, and when my godchild comes to need my aid, I shall be ready to give it."

With these words she glided from the hall, and, as soon as the baroness could leave her guests, she carefully secured the precious ball in a case, and tied it to her child's cradle.

A few years passed, and little Maud, still an only child, became the constant companion of her mother, who much needed such a comfort; for her husband had gradually neglected her more and more; she found her influence almost gone when she still pleaded for the poor and suffering, and her health, too, declined, slowly but steadily. Maud was hardly six years old when she lost her excellent mother; and though the baron grieved for a time, and felt that he had been unkind and negligent, he soon resumed his old way of living, and the year had hardly elapsed, when he brought home another wife, who soon showed herself the very reverse of her predecessor. Proud and haughty, she cared not for the poor; they were driven away if they dared to come to the castle, as they had been used to do; and, vain of her beauty, she encouraged her husband in all sorts of extravagance, which obliged him to increase his exactions on all within his power, so that he grew more cruel and rapacious every day. The new lady never gave herself much trouble about poor little Maud, who was left to the care of servants, and, in truth, neglected by every one but her old nurse. Even her father soon ceased to notice her, for his new wife brought him a son, and Maud was no longer of the slightest consequence in his eyes. The poor child felt very unhappy, having been used to live entirely with her mother, and to be the constant object of affection. She spent much of her time in the garden; sometimes playing by herself, sometimes talking to her old nurse, or sitting by the fountain, on a stone which had been a favourite seat of her mother's. She had no new playthings given her now; indeed, her stepmother took away from her all that was worth keeping to give to her own children. But the little wooden ball was thought too shabby for any one else, and Maud always kept it from habit;

because her mother had so often warned her not to lose it, though she was too young to understand its value.

One day she was rolling it along a gravel walk, running after it, when it turned a little aside, and dropped into the fountain. Poor Maud sprang to the water's edge, but the pool was too deep,--she could see nothing of her ball; and she began to cry. Suddenly the water moved, and a lady, covered with a silvery gauze veil, rose from the midst, holding the ball in her hand. Maud was a good deal frightened, but the sight of her ball prevented her from running away. She stood doubting, and the lady slowly came towards her, smiling sweetly, and addressed her in a very kind voice, She told her she was her godmother, and a friend who had much loved her departed mother; that the ball was her gift, and she now restored it; but it must be more carefully kept; not used as a plaything, but secured to her dress, and never parted with: the reason of this she said Maud should know when she was older. Meanwhile, she questioned her about her lessons, and found that since her mother's death the child had had no teaching, and was likely to have none, but was quite willing to learn as her mother had accustomed her to do. The Nymph regretted that her duties at the court of the Naiad Queen had detained her so long from her charge, but now she had returned home, and resolved at once to fulfil her promise to the late baroness. So she desired Maud to come every day to

the fountain, and to throw a little pebble into it, saying she would come whenever she thus summoned her, and teach her all she ought to know. Maud was delighted at the idea; and every day she contrived to spend two or three hours with her kind godmother, in the little arbour beside the fountain, without anyone's knowing or caring where she passed her time; for ber old nurse had been dismissed just about the time of the loss of the ball in the well; and the new baroness was too much taken up with company and visiting to go much into the quiet garden.

Years rolled on, and Maud grew into a beautiful girl. full of sense and energy, and well versed in every a complishment of the age,- from spinning and sewing, and the humblest household economy, to such learning as was not then common, even in the highest rank Nor had her good godmother neglected religious instruction and the guidance of her heart. She had taught her to excuse and pardon the harshness of her stepmother, to yield to all the tyranny of her halfbrothers and sisters, and to follow her mother's example in visiting and comforting the poor by every means in her power; showing her, that though she had little or nothing to give, yet sympathy and advice were often more valuable than money, and that she could always do good, by instructing the children, and encouraging the sick and unhappy to see God's merciful hand, even in their worst sufferings. Such visits as these were the only pleasures of Maud; for her step-mother had no idea of bringing into society one whose innocent, youthful beauty must have thrown her quite into the shade. But, even in these, Maud found a source of much anxiety, in the daily increasing conviction of her father's unpopularity among his vassals, and the rumours she heard of the neighbouring towns becoming tired of his exactions, while his brother nobles were little likely to support him, many having been af fronted by himself or his wife in various ways. Poor Mand several times attempted to warn him, and to persuade him to greater mildness, but without success. He cared not for her, and his wife's influence always more than counteracted hers.